Caustic
by Onur6boss
Summary: Sometimes the ones we love, are the ones we hurt the most. Tibbs Slash - nothing graphic at all.


AN: This is my first foray into fanfiction, and my first time using . Apologies if I get anything wrong. Story previously posted on My Livejournal account (artwork for the fic also found there) and also on AO3.

Warning: This is a SLASH fic - nothing graphic but if thats not your thing, please don't read.

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><p>Gibbs sat motionless on the lumpy couch, staring at the flames of the fire as they danced, crackled and popped casting shadows around the darkness of the room. For once even the basement with its boat and bourbon was unable to provide solace. Or maybe it was <em>him<em> that wasn't allowing that comfort to be obtained. There was only one thing, or more to the point one person, who could calm his tumultuous emotions, and it was the same person who'd stormed out with a terse, yet quiet, 'Fuck you, Gibbs' and slammed the door on his departure so hard the windows rattled in their panes.

He'd fucked up. He knew it. It had started with a case, a bad one. It was the kind of case that made you sick to the pit of your stomach and wanting to put your fist through the drywall. Something that Gibbs had followed through on, and now had the bruised knuckles and a fist sized hole in his kitchen to prove it. The kind of case that left both white-hot anger, and the cold bile of disgust flowing through your veins, intertwining under the surface, waiting to explode. He'd snarled and snapped like a junkyard-dog, and as usual Tony had taken the brunt of his ire. Unlike usual however, his temper had followed him home.

Tony had been quiet; the slump of his shoulders and dullness in his eyes should have indicated to Gibbs how hard the case had hit his young lover. But the combination of anger, tension, despair and self-recrimination as well as the formidable 'second B' had blinded him to anything but his own grievances. Tony finally spoke, clipped but concise and Gibbs had responded growling scathing comments and getting in Tony's face. He wasn't sure how things had escalated, and he doubted either of them would remember, but when he'd spun around at Tony's cutting words, his fist breaking through the drywall mere inches from Tony's head, he'd known he'd gone too far. Those almost whispered words; 'Fuck you, Gibbs' along with the cold fury burning in Tony's eyes had sealed it, speaking volumes more than the resounding slam of the front door. So here he was, alone, knuckles throbbing at the memory and unable to do anything to ease his aching soul.

A thud at the front door roused him from his thoughts. Making his way towards the front room he could hear familiar slurred cursing and the jingle of keys as they were fumbled and dropped, followed by another thud as a body slumped against the panel. Opening the door briskly Gibbs looked down at the disheveled lump seated on his porch, shirt un-tucked, hair askew and eyes glazed. Tony blearily looked up at Gibbs through his drunken haze, "M' key'sss don' wor'k." Tony slurred, then looked up at Gibbs with unfocused eyes, confusion clearly written on his face, "Wha' you do'n ma 'partment?"

"Not your apartment, Tony." Gibbs watched as Tony's head rolled on his shoulders, falling against the wall with a thump.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh." The anger and fury Gibbs has previously felt melted away and had been replaced by relief. As for Tony, well Tony was too intoxicated to be much of anything except practically paralytic. "Come on, let's get inside before you freeze ya ass off."

Hauling Tony to his feet, the two men struggled inside, Tony almost face-planting the floor several times in his inebriated state, completely unable to hold himself upright much less put one foot in front of the other. Gibbs could smell the alcoholic stench permeating from the other man, '_What'd he do? Swim in it_?' and knew this was at least partially his fault. That thought made him grip Tony even more fiercely as he lead the stumbling man upstairs.

Gibbs wasn't sure how but they finally made it into their bedroom, Tony collapsing onto the bed in a heap, eyes closed, appearing to have passed out. Searching his lover's face Gibbs noted the dark smudges under his eyes a stark contrast to the too pale face, and felt like even more of a bastard, '_How long had those been there and how did I not notice? _' Gently slipping off Tony's pants, shoes and positioning him the best he could under the covers Gibbs lay down beside 'his' Tony and propped himself up on an elbow to drink in the sight.

Tony unconsciously or consciously, Gibbs couldn't decide, shifted towards him, murmuring words, so softly Gibbs almost missed them, "S' go'n hom'."

Caressing Tony's face with a calloused hand Gibbs swallowed the uncomfortable lump forming in his throat, "You're already home, Tony."

Gibbs held no illusions he knew nothing had been resolved; the issues were still there, the hurtful words and actions wouldn't just disappear. He knew that in the harsh reality of daylight there would be a lot to fix. But in the darkness and solitude of their room, watching Tony's even breathing as he softly stroked the other mans hair he could pretend that everything was going to be alright.

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><p>Feedback welcome and adored. If there is interest in my writings here, Ill post others :D<p> 


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